


Fried Rice

by blobfish_miffy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, CAPTAIN SQUAD, Housemates, Minor Character Death, Or romantic, Roommates, University, but Platonic - Freeform, captain squad haikyuu, hes my child, i love oikawa too who doesnt, i love ushijima, it's ushioi, its my first haikyuu fic so dont be too harsh, panicky oikawa, sad ushijima, ushioi - Freeform, you can interpret it any way you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 17:03:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13392297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blobfish_miffy/pseuds/blobfish_miffy
Summary: “You can cry normally, you know.” Oikawa mentioned offhandedly, picking at his cuticles. “No need to hold it in. It’ll only make you feel worse.”-In which Oikawa doesn't really know how to comfort his roommate.





	Fried Rice

**Author's Note:**

> i have exams lmao kill me now please

Oikawa didn’t really know what to do.

He was standing in the doorway of the third bedroom in the apartment, the one Daichi and Ushijima shared. The only reason he’d dared to step foot into the room was to fetch the taller boy for dinner. Steaming takeout was lying on the coffee table in the living room, just waiting to be eaten.

But his simple plan of calling Ushi’s name and then proceeding to skip back to his fried rice wouldn’t suffice now. Not now.

Not now that Wakatoshi was curled up in a corner of the room, obviously in distress.

Oikawa really, _really_ didn’t know what to do. He was hesitant. Having lived with Wakatoshi for over a year now had softened his hard feelings towards him – he even started to enjoy Ushiwaka’s company, he realised with a shiver – yet the thought of him comforting Ushijima was on a completely different level. Tooru wasn’t close to him at all. They had a mutual understanding that they appreciated each other’s company, but not like this.

He’d never really felt sympathy for Ushijima, though that was probably because he simply did not know the guy. Ushi was simple and pure; though he liked the same memes Oikawa liked, he wasn’t quite as dirty minded as the rest of the group. He liked order and clarity, he was blunt and aloof, but he could be extremely caring. Ushijima also had the tendency to never show his feelings.

Only now did Oikawa realize that his flatmate may or may not bottle all those feelings up. As he watched Ushijima’s fingers starting to dig painfully deep into his shins, his chest started to constrict. It was like a belt had been looped around his heart and someone had started to pull it very tightly – he knew how it felt, suppressing his bothers and feelings and then snapping. The feeling of keeping tears from falling though they were burning his eyes, the feeling of biting his lip so hard metallic taste would flood his mouth.

Oikawa watched, realized, and made a decision.

Within seconds he’d crossed the room and sat down next to the ace. He resisted the urge to touch the other boy, not wanting to cross his and his own boundaries, but sat close enough that they could feel each other’s body heat. He heard Ushijima muffle whimpers and keep in sobs, though he knew it needed to be let out.

After a minute or two, Oikawa broke the silence with a whisper.

“What happened?”

Ushijima didn’t react.

“You can tell me, you know.” Tooru coaxed. “I won’t judge. Okay,” he added as an afterthought, “I probably will, but I won’t let you know I’m judging you. I promise.”

Ushijima still didn’t speak. Oikawa let out a sigh and rose to his feet, shuffling forward at a snail’s pace. He didn’t really want to leave, he knew, he just waited. Ten heartbeats passed. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Then-

It was spoken so quietly he almost mistook it for wind blowing against the building. But still, Oikawa’d heard it. And since he’d heard it, he allowed himself to smile briefly.

It was a small ‘please’.

Oikawa closed the door to ensure that no-one would hear clearly, and then returned to his spot next to Ushijima. He didn’t speak, just listened to his friend’s inconsistent breathing, and his own, measured breaths.

Oikawa bit his lip, still not knowing what to do. _‘What would Daichi do?’_ he thought to himself, raking his brain with options. _‘Daichi knows what to do at a moment like this.’_

He wanted to slap himself for his inner voice sounding so panicked. He knew how to comfort people. He’d always been able to comfort Iwaizumi. His old friend had always been easy to console, though Iwa-chan comforted Oikawa more than the other way round. Tooru _knew_ Hajime. He knew his friend’s weaknesses, his likes and his dislikes. He knew what cheered Iwaizumi up – he just didn’t know all of that with Ushijima.

Okay, he knew what Ushijima liked to eat. He knew Ushijima’s favourite kind of humour, and he knew the type of booze Ushijima liked. He knew what Ushijima was passionate about, mainly because they shared the same passion, but he knew nevertheless.

He just wasn’t sure if he knew Ushijima enough to comfort him.

Maybe, if Oikawa knew what upset the other boy so much that he couldn’t help but cry, he could help. Maybe. But he himself wasn’t sure if he could.

“You can cry normally, you know.” Oikawa mentioned offhandedly, picking at his cuticles. “No need to hold it in. It’ll only make you feel worse.”

Ushijima’s sobs were silent, sometimes interrupted by sharp intakes of breaths and sad whimpers. Though it was clear that he wasn’t holding back with his crying, seeing the fact that his entire body was shaking, Oikawa was surprised to say the least. He’d expected Ushijima’s crying to be the opposite of his character, loud and obnoxious, fitting for a man his size. But no, the weeping was as quiet and demure as Ushijima was himself, and Oikawa respected that in a way he could respect the tears of others: he didn’t care how loud one was, as long as the person felt better afterwards.

It took many minutes before Ushijima had started to calm down. Oikawa felt the urge to throw his arm around the other boy quite strongly when he lifted his head and rubbed at his face. He was puppy-like, and it honestly baffled Oikawa.

“You ready to talk?” Oikawa murmured, staring at Daichi’s bed standing across from him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the other boy glance at him, as he was waiting for something. Waiting for Oikawa to turn around and start yelling obscenities in his face, maybe, but Oikawa knew that that would be a bad decision.

He hadn’t felt like doing that in a while, either.

“Sorry I look like shit,” Ushijima murmured back, his voice hoarse. Oikawa felt his chest constrict again. Pushing it away, he huffed, placing his gaze on Ushijima and glaring.

“You always look shitty. No need to apologize.”

That wasn’t true. Ushijima was one of the few who was able to effortlessly be pretty and handsome at the same time. It was a pity he didn’t smile.

Ushijima’s corner of his mouth twitched, before rubbing his face and staring in another direction.

“I suppose you want to know why I broke down, huh?”

Oikawa nodded, keeping his gaze trained on Ushijima.

“My grandfather called. My mother is dead.”

Oikawa’s chest constricted some more.

“Car accident.” His voice had started to sound emotionless again, like the robot Oikawa had grown to hate and admire on the court.

Oikawa did not like that.

“That’s terrible. You must feel terrible.”

Wakatoshi was silent, but he swallowed harshly.

“When is the funeral?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, his voice cracking a little. “I hung up before he could tell me.”

Oikawa rubbed his index finger and chewed on his bottom lip. He didn’t know how to continue comforting Ushijima. The man had told him what he needed to get off his chest – but what now?

“Are you hungry, Wakatoshi-san?” Oikawa asked gently.

The boy in question shrugged.

“That’s good. Daichi ordered your favourite.” Oikawa rose to his feet carefully, and held out his hand as a gesture to help Wakatoshi up. “It’s probably cold by now, but we can reheat it. No problem.”

Wakatoshi looked at his hand as if it’d been E.T.’s. Oikawa resisted the urge to roll his eyes and gestured again.

“Come on, dude. You need some food.”

Ushijima started to nod silently. Then he accepted Oikawa’s hand and he pulled himself upright. He blinked. His eyes were still red-rimmed and puffy, and there were red splotches on his tan cheeks. Oikawa wanted to run his hand through Ushijima’s hair to make it neater, but he decided not to.

He released his friend’s hand and started to walk to the doorway. When he’d opened the door to walk into the hallway, something heavy was placed on top of his shoulder. He turned.

Ushijima looked at him, glassy eyes and all. “Thank you, Tooru.” He said. “That kind of made me feel a little better, somehow.”

Oikawa blinked. “No need to thank me. I was being a decent human being.”

“For once.” Ushijima gifted him a weak, watery smile, before leaving for the living room.

Oikawa paused. His head was reeling a little bit. Then, with a light heart, he followed suit.

He needed that fried rice now.


End file.
